A Day in the Reel Life
by Bob Wright
Summary: Dwight Ellison observes the taping of an episode of his son-in-law's show. A one-shot story.


A DAY IN THE REEL LIFE

BY

BOB WRIGHT

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it has been a while since I completed my last full length story. Fear not though, dear readers, for I am still here and am laying out the groundwork for my 10th story (hard to believe, isn't it?), although I should advise everyone not to expect it until about September, for reasons you'll understand when you read it. In the meantime, though, I figured another one-shotter might be in order to hold everyone over till then; read carefully and you may get a hint where I'll go with the next one--and with the big final story I intend to do once the series does come to an end.

Of course, Adrian Monk and all related characters and indicia are registered trademarks of USA Network, Mandeville Films, and Touchstone Television. And now, sit back and enjoy this brief storyette.

* * *

"Afternoon, Mr. Ellison," the guard on duty at the gate to the backlot at Walt Disney Studios greeted the gray haired man in the blue Crown Victoria pulling up alongside his booth, "You're just in time; they told me to tell you they were starting the shoot at the bottom of the hour."

"Thanks Tommy," Dwight Ellison smiled at him as the gate to the backlot swung open. He'd been worried he'd be late for the shoot; the taping of his latest episode of Crimestoppers U.S.A. had been delayed a half hour due to a broken sprinkler head on the set, and L.A. traffic had been its usual nightmarish self, but it looked like everything had turned out well in the end.

He pulled forward across the backlot, swerving around numerous stagehands carrying flats and costume racks, before sliding into what had become his customary parking space outside Soundstage 10--home base for the unexpectedly successful show about his son-in-law's life. Much as Dwight had built a long and successful career in television with everything from cop dramas to game shows, few productions were more fulfilling to be a part of than this one since he'd requested to come on board as an executive producer at the beginning of the current season. And the episode being shot today was one he knew he couldn't miss--"Mr. Monk and Mrs. Monk," he read off the title page of the script copy he'd brought with him. Any episode that directly related to his daughter required his presence at all costs.

Inside the soundstage, the crew was getting set up for the opening scene in a diner, white balancing and checking sound levels. Standing in the middle of the hustle and bustle was the man largely responsible for the day to day operations of the show--excepting the efforts of the Fleming family, who sent the production all the scripts. Dwight hustled over to the familiar bespectacled figure. "How's it going, Tim?" he asked his fellow executive producer.

"Dwight, glad you could make it today!" Disney executive Tim Kight gave his hand a very thorough pumping. "Well, I can see you're in a pretty excited mood," Dwight couldn't help noticing.

"Oh it's a very good day indeed, my friend," Kight proclaimed proudly, "You are looking at the new head of Walt Disney Television Productions AND the newest member of the board of directors. So the next time you hear from Adrian, you tell him thanks; if it wasn't for him, I'd still be stuck in a dead end office; now, Iger tells me I'm indispensible."

"Well, I'm sure we both knew that, Tim," Dwight gave him a slap on the back. Noticing his associate was still beaming, he inquired, "And there's more?"

"Oh yeah. We just found out this morning; Elizabeth's pregnant again," Kight said, tears of joy flowing, "That should at least seal our marriage for good; I guess I told you we almost fell apart after Joshua...well, having another child should put some meaning back into our lives."

He shifted about uncomfortably, sad remorse now on his face. Dwight respectfully remained silent. He knew Kight's pain all too well, as his associate's son had been killed in a hit and run a few years back, and much as with Trudy's case, the culprit remained at large to the present day, despite two profilings on Crimestoppers already.

"But anyway," Kight perked back up, "This is going to be a good show, Dwight, I can just sense it in the script, so once our director comes in, we can get started. I think we were quite lucky to be able to land her after her Golden Globe nomination for the miners'...oh, here she comes; Mrs. Stottlemeyer-Marshall, over here," he waved towards the door.

"It's just Mrs. Marshall, Tim," the red-haired woman said almost defensively, a Bluetooth to her ear and several camera tripods under her arm, "I told you I got remarried two months ago. No Jerry, I know YOU know that," she went on into the headset, "I've got to go now, I'm doing the show for Monk and Leland. No, it's shouldn't take much more than two hours, if that. Well, if it makes you feel any better, pile everything up on the curb and wait for me."

She let out a loud groan of frustration as she hung up the Bluetooth. "Do you believe how impatient they are?" she complained to the two producers without even looking at them, "Everyone wants my time for this, that, everything; even Leland was never this pushy. OK, let me have the script and see what we're doing with this."

"Right here, Karen," Dwight handed her the script. He'd been contacted by the rising director just after he'd joined the show full time, requesting she be allowed to direct an episode or two. Adrian had agreed when his father-in-law had contacted him about the request, but had adamantly insisted she not be given any episode directly concerning her relationship with her former husband out of fear the end result would be unfairly biased against him. He watched as she buzzed through the entire script in less than a minute. "Reasonable," was her only comment, "OK, let's get this on."

"Have you also considered my offer about what I talked over with you over the phone, Mrs. Marshall?" Kight inquired as she started walking to her chair.

"I'm a feature director now, Tim," she said with more than a little trace of haugtiness, "But if you insist it'll be worth it, I guess I'll give it some thought. No, no, no!!" she barked at the gaffer, stringing up a pair of Fresnels over the diner's counter, "You've got that all wrong! Let me!!"

She stormed off to correct the perceived problem. "Your offer?" Dwight inquired to Kight.

"I've just been thinking, with the huge response this show is getting, maybe to have a formal get-together with Adrian and the cast and the fans," Kight told him, "Now it'll probably take a little while to get things together, maybe a year or two, but maybe a week of festivities somewhere to celebrate the show, let him meet the fans, stuff like that. The biggest thing would be location; Iger said he won't open Disneyland for it, and I don't know if there's room in San Francisco where we can put it all together; the mayor's office wasn't too accomodating when I called him, maybe after what you said about that debacle during the garbage strike. Maybe after his term ends. But I did ask Karen if she'd be willing to film parts of it as part of a parallel documentary on it all, and as you can see, the jury's still out right now."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Dwight shook his head as he watched Karen personally shove the cameras into her desired filming pattern; he wondered now whether he'd made a good call bringing her on board. "So how's Adrian doing lately?" Kight asked him, "I haven't had a word with him since his psychiatrist died."

"He's a little better now that he found a new one," Dwight informed him, "The last few weeks he's started to get antsy with the Olympics coming to town; he's worried they're going to leave San Francisco irreversably polluted and said he's looking for a fallout shelter in case the city has to be abandoned," he chuckled to himself, "I told him, 'You got through that garbage strike, you can survive...'"

"Quiet on the set please!" came Karen's directive from the director's chair. Both men took their seats behind the set as the lights went down. "Places please," the director ordered, "And, action."

The actress playing Natalie Teeger entered the restaurant, cell phone to her ear. "He'll be there on time, Mr. Monk," she said into it, "You sure you don't want me to swing by...?"

"Cut," Karen ordered. The actress turned towards her, utterly confused. "Now what was wrong with that!?" she demanded.

"I need more energetic delivery," the director instructed, "I need more upsetness that he's calling you incessantly about this. This is after all Adrian Monk, Miss Harvey."

"It's Howard," the actress corrected her.

"Like there's a difference," Karen waved her off, "Places again please."

The crew reset for the next take. This one, with the actress delivering the lines in a far more over the top manner, apparently met with Karen's approval, as the scene continued. The actress sat down at the counter as the door swung open and in came--Trudy. Dwight couldn't believe how exactly like his daughter she was, almost to the T. He listened as the faux Trudy delivered her lines to the elderly man sitting across from her, something about her having faked her death to go undercover. Yes, it was almost an exact match to the actual Trudy; he could sense it in her mannerisms. It was almost as if she was in fact alive again.

Abruptly he stood up and walked behind the flat, unable to watch anymore. "You OK there, Dwight?" Kight bustled after him once the scene had cut.

"Oh, yeah, Tim, just...it was a little too close to home for me than I thought it would be," Dwight admitted, realizing only then his eyes had moistened. He took a deep breath and dared to turn and see the faux Trudy walking back to her starting mark for another take. "I can't really blame Adrian for going to pieces when he found out about this one," he told his associate, "If it were possible she might still be alive, I guess I'd do the same. I'd go crazy just to have one last chance to see her, one last chance to hold her and...and tell her how...how much she still means to me."

He hung his head. "I know, Dwight," Kight patted him on the shoulder, "There've been times I've wondered what things could be like to have Joshua back. But I've told myself, I had seven and a half good years with him, and that's better than quite a few people ever get. The killer can never take that away from Elizabeth and me, just as whoever this Judge guy turns out to be can't take thirty-four years with Trudy from you. Or Adrian."

Dwight nodded, feeling a little better. "But if you could have him back, for only ten minutes or so," he had to ask, "What would you tell him, knowing it would be the last time you'd ever see him again?"

"I think you know what I'd say," Kight said, "It's the same thing everyone who's been through what we have would say."

Dwight in fact knew what it was. And he thus knew that in many ways Trudy would never really die, as long as people remained alive who cared for her. And given the success of the show, that number had now become larger than he'd ever imagine. If only Trudy could have seen how many people cared for her now--then again, maybe somewhere, somehow, she did know.

"Well, I guess I'm OK now," he told Kight, walking back towards the set, "I guess I just had to get it out of the system. Everything should be better now."

"I said hold the mike HIGHER!!" Karen was practically screaming at the stagehand holding a fishpole microphone over the faux Natalie, "I'm getting way too much feedback here!!"

Dwight shook his head. "Well, almost better," he conceded.

THE END


End file.
